Knowing
by Angel360-Devil0
Summary: The Dollhouse unwinds at the end of "Omega". Takes scenes from "Omega", "Briar Rose", and "A Spy in the House of Love", along with original scenes; spoilers for the whole series. Soft T for one curse word. More inside.
1. Endings

**A/N: **Hey, Lane here (noobloser on the Dollhouse Wiki), and I'm back! I've been fallow in terms of Dollhouse ideas for a while, so when I saw the end of "Omega", specifically that ending scene with Claire (sorry, Whiskey) and Topher (who else thinks that there's so many implications of a relationship there?), a wonderful idea popped into my head. I also decided that I would write it all in present tense. Now, that may not seem like a big thing, but coming from someone who mainly writes in the past tense, yeah, it's a big deal. And I never thought it'd be this hard! Three days to make sure ideas, tenses, and plot flow makes sense. Originally conceived (and still is) as a ClairexTopher piece, it grew to include PaulxMadeline/November/Mellie. You'll see why soon enough.

Any TDI/A fans out there reading this, I'm sorry I haven't been updating GftD! I heard the episodes were taking another six week break, so I'll use that time to catch up. I'll see what I can do in terms of getting the episodes though...so no promises on how far I'll be able to get. Help is greatly appreciated, and sorry--again! Oh, and an update for Lab Rat should come soon; I need to sort out a few ideas I have bouncing around in the ol' noggin.

Word of advice: the "Moonlight Sonata" movements one and three heavily inspired my fanfic, mostly movement one. So listen to the two while reading. In my opinion, the show could've squeezed in "Moonlight Sonata" Movement one in there at the end somehow. Not to say, the ending song wasn't all that bad either.

**Disclaimer: I hereby claim no ownership of the premise or characters of Dollhouse. Those are in the ownership of FOX and Joss Whedon.**

* * *

Echo is going up the elevator in the parking lot, up to the Dollhouse, to the Imprint chair to wipe away the past day's memories, of San Pedro Industrial Road 7-18, of Alpha, of Caroline Farrell.

* * *

Topher Brink has to be in the Imprint room, right by that chair, greeting Echo with a complacent smile, but tonight is different. He is earlier than usual, probably due to the day's events, but he is not his normal laid-back cocky genius self. However, he finds someone already in his office, down the small flight of stairs, staring out over the rest of the Dollhouse, watching the Actives through the tall windows.

"Doctor Saunders?" He asks, nervousness creeping into his voice.

"I think you gave me more computer skills than would be required by a medical doctor." She answers, in an almost trained tone, not even turning around to look at him, to watch his expression fall even farther. His eyes shift to his computer, and on the screen, there are the words "Document Search" and "Administrator Access Only" at the top of a window. On the right side, there are five descriptions. The first is the description "00293 Folders", under that "09857 Folders", and under that, in a dark tinge, "00547 Folders", and in an even darker tinge, "01097 Folders". The final string is blacked out. There are three folder icons in the center of the window, and there is a picture of a young woman, an Active, Whiskey. This, as he knows too well, is Doctor Claire Saunders. His thought train is interrupted by her while he's staring at the picture of Whiskey.

"It was very easy for me to hack your system." Now he looks away from the screen, almost ashamed. _Oh fuck. _He closes his eyes and mouths a curse under his breath before opening his eyes again, looking at her. She's turning now, and holds eye contact with him for a few milliseconds before looking off to the side, and then she starts taking steps towards the stairs. "I'm curious."

"About?" He's nervous. What could she be curious about besides her past, a past that she didn't bother looking up, since the three folders dedicated to that were unopened?

"Well, I guess I understand why they wouldn't want to waste an investment." She's now walking up the stairs, and he averts his eyes. Normally, the comment wouldn't—couldn't—shouldn't—hurt his ego at all, but after today's events, the panic from Alpha rearing his head again, everything seems to feel like a punch to the stomach—or a Taser to the chest.

"And I suppose why hire a new physician when you can just…Imprint the broken Doll." That comment hurts too, but he looks up, and now she's across from him, still by the railing, but across from him face-to-face. He looks down again, and looks back up, half expecting her to chide him for not facing her, hiding from the confrontation.

What he gets is an entirely different response. "But why did you decide it was so important for me to hate you?" The way she says it, her facial expression, unnerves him because it is blank, like an Active's, who she really is…an Active. He wants to give an answer to her question, but it doesn't come. Not even a squeak of fear comes to his aide. If he has more time...but that's what he doesn't have—time.

He doesn't get the chance to respond because she cocks her head to the side and starts talking again, inputting her own thoughts on her own question. "I think that's strange." He thinks she's going to say more, she has more on her mind, but she heads for the door.

He looks at his computer screen, then to her retreating form, and finally works up a sentence, a way to stop her. "You didn't open it." He weakly points in the direction of his computer, and he sounds panicked, voice slightly strained, hoping she'll stop. _Why didn't she open it?_

"No." She curtly—and roughly—responds, again not turning around to face him. _At least it got her to stop. But she won't remain still long,_ he knew. He has to fire another question at her before it's too late, before she would make herself—and in turn, him—pretend their conversation never took place.

"Aren't you curious to see who you really are?" He's successful, and she turns her head to him and keeps a steady gaze for a few seconds.

"I know who I am." His breath catches in his throat as she turns her head back and starts to walk away. It was not the answer he expected, not at all. He realizes he's been holding his breath, and it comes out as a huff from his nose. He tries to whisper to himself, a simple reassurance that he understood what she said, but nothing comes out.

* * *

In the parking lot, Boyd Langton and Paul Ballard sigh. It's been a long day for both of them, and they're alone in the parking lot. They've been waiting for the past few minutes for the elevator to come down to take them up to Adelle DeWitt. Their thought trains are gone as the elevator pings and opens up for them. Boyd walks into the elevator and turns around to face Paul; he's still standing in the same spot, staring at him…or was it the open elevator?

"Let's go." Boyd commands gently, and Paul holds his head up and walks into the elevator and stands next to Boyd. The elevator doors close; they're both whisked away to the top floor and to Adelle.

* * *

He, Topher, had Deactivated November, now Madeline Costley. Orders from the top, and there's no way to argue with them. That, coupled with his talk with Claire—Whiskey—that had only taken place a few minutes ago had started to take its toll; his face started to show signs of exhaustion, but mostly guilt and sadness when Echo entered the room and sat on the chair.

Now Echo has been Wiped, and the chair is coming back into its original position. She has the same, blank look on her face, as always. He turns around from the machines to greet her, but he doesn't bother putting a smile on his face; he's too tired to do so.

"Did I fall asleep?" She seems normal.

"For a little while." He's surprised he can manage to keep a steady tone; he was facing the Active that had caused quite a bit of trouble for the past day—not counting the ever elusive Alpha.

"Shall I go now?" Her eyebrows rose in question, and her eyes are searching for an answer written on his face.

"If you like." He nods, and turns back to the machine to power it down. She gets up, satisfied with his answer, but something changes within her. She is not as satisfied as she should be, and she stops and slowly turns around and looks at him. _He is sad. _She walks to his side, and touches his shoulder. He turns around and sees Echo and attempts to ask her what's wrong, but nothing comes out. He takes a step forward, and her hand softly touches his chest. She finds words unnecessary, and she furrows her eyebrows before looking up at him. _He is unwell there._ He looks down at her hand, somewhat puzzled and frightened by the gentle touch, then looks at her face to see if she will say anything, but she merely smiles, takes her hand off his chest, and starts to walk away. He watches her walk out of the room, a little frightened by what she had just done…and he almost forgets to breathe.

* * *

**A/N: **You made it through in one piece? Okay! I think I got most of the tenses right, but still, any criticism is highly appreciated. And if you thought this was over...haha, you'd be wrong. There's another chapter COMING UP! So review on this one while you still can!


	2. Beginning of the End

**A/N: **What'd I tell you? It's the second chapter right here! We're going a little bit more back in time, and this chapter is a great deal longer than the previous one. I have a pretty lame explanation for a certain something (it should point itself out easily, and if not, well, then I did some good) in the plot, so um...sorry, but I couldn't think of anything else. So events will overlap and such, other people's thoughts will be elaborated on, thoughts are getting deeper, blah, blah, blah. Remember to review, remember that the disclaimer is in the first chapter, and please, remember who you are.

* * *

It's not real. What she feels right now is not real. She isn't real. Dr. Claire Saunders…isn't real. That medical degree she thinks she worked so hard to get…imaginary, even though it is in a frame buried in one of her office drawers (she never liked flaunting her achievements, _but that's a lie,_ she thinks to herself), probably a great forgery at best. Her skills that help the Actives stay healthy for Engagements…taken from a brain scan of the original Dr. Saunders. He was dead. She thought a part of herself died in Alpha's composite event; she remembers being backed into the corner of her office (or was it her examination table? Even her fake memories were getting cloudy), feels the deep cuts he made with that blade, remembers feeling helpless and lying on the floor of her office, looking up at the lights, and yet…SHE never died. The ORIGINAL Dr. Saunders died by Alpha's hand in God knows what way (_probably a blade, _she assures herself). Her memories before coming to the Dollhouse—even how she signed on to work here…implanted, no, Imprinted. By Topher Brink, of course. He's the one who created her, what she feels, how she thinks. Anger boils inside of her if only for a second, because it dissipates. She remembers that she has been programmed to hate him. He programmed her to feel that.

She thinks back to what led her to this discovery. She goes back, back to when Echo was asking her, or telling her how she hadn't left the Dollhouse in three months, since Alpha's composite event.

* * *

"_I'm looking at the security logs since the Alpha incident." Echo was at Adelle DeWitt's computer, interrogating the last person on her list: Dr. Claire Saunders. Claire's normal facial expression started to turn into a frown, fearing what Echo would find out. Echo turned in Adelle's chair to face Claire. "When was the last time you left the Dollhouse?"_

"_I feel like I can better serve the Actives if I'm here." It was the perfect cover-up since it was half-true. However, Echo was Imprinted with the skills to see through this cover-up._

"_Twenty-four seven?"_

"_Engagements run around the clock, you never know when there's going to be an emergency." Again, another cover-up. Echo realized this, but decided not to delve further down this path, and instead took another path, one that could possibly lead to the truth._

"_I don't doubt your intentions, but such intense focus on your work can leave other parts of your life…empty, and open to exploitation." It had struck a nerve within Claire, and Echo noticed this since Claire was averting her eyes, a telling sign that she was ashamed. "Do you have friends outside the Dollhouse?" Claire looked up, about to answer, and then the phone rang._

* * *

At the moment however, she can't recall if she had ever left beforehand. Her memories fast-forward to when she had to sedate Laurence Dominic—in Victor's body.

* * *

"_So, uh…me, my body…I'm uh—I'm in the Attic. I knew it. I KNEW IT!" Laurence Dominic—in Victor's body—shouted to Adelle and Boyd, trying to wriggle his way out of his restraints. He was, after all, bound to the Imprint chair. They were trying to extract information out of him, something about opening a USB drive that was hand-delivered to him, and it was password-protected. Topher was by the machines, and Claire was off to the side with two needles, one for sedation, and another needle, a more powerful sedative. Claire started to worry that the restraints wouldn't hold him down and he'd break loose. "AND NOW YOU WANT ME TO HELP?! AFTER DOING THAT!" He thrashed harder, really trying to break the restraints this time._

"_Doctor? Sedate him please." Adelle commanded coldly, and Claire had no choice but to comply._

_Laurence didn't take Adelle's orders well. "No…Topher." Topher wasn't about to help. Laurence held eye contact with Adelle. "Adelle, please, come on, don't, don't give me the shot, please!" He noticed Claire coming closer with the needle in hand, and he arched Victor's body away from the chair, but he still didn't manage to break loose. "Don't give…" He looked up at her. "Whiskey." At that point, she injected the sedative into him._

"_He wants a drink instead." She tried to dismiss what he had just said, because she knew in the back of her mind that Whiskey was the NATO code for "W", easily the name of an Active._

"_I'm not surprised." Adelle coldly commented._

"_No." Laurence squeezed out, and his head fell to the right. "No." That unnerved Claire greatly as she took steps back to her position. _

* * *

Was that it, Whiskey? It was enough to unnerve her for a few hours. She dismissed it as nonsensical blabbing—at first. Later that night, when she was leaving for a good night's rest, she heard plate glass shattering, and then screaming, yelling. It didn't take long for her to pinpoint where the noise was coming from; Bed Chamber One, where the Actives Echo, Sierra, Victor, November, and Mike slept. The other Actives were asleep, except Echo was gone, and Victor was out of his bed pod, sitting. _People were fighting on me._ He was cut up everywhere, possibly from the broken plate glass that she saw in Victor's bed pod. Nevertheless, she guided him to her office for proper medical attention. Everything changed after that.

_

* * *

_

Claire and Victor had just arrived in her office. She didn't understand how he got those cuts, but he did, so they needed to be tended to. "All right, we'll have you fixed up in—" She gasped, because Alpha was now in front of both of them. With a few deft motions, he made cuts all over Victor's face. Victor gasped, started to feel his face, and fell to the floor. She was breathing hard now, for Alpha's reappearance had brought back painful memories of his attack on her. "Alpha." He smirked in response, and then suddenly advanced to her, forcibly gripping her face and pushing her back so she was now propping herself against her desk.

* * *

It is too painful for Claire to remember. But she remembers what he asked her. _Have you…always wanted to be a doctor? _She thought it was just psychological torture, but now she knows that's not the case. He knew she was an Active. The memories he forced her to recall were planted there, maybe taken from the original Dr. Saunders's brain scans, maybe not. She doesn't know how the science exactly works, because Topher didn't Imprint her with that knowledge.

She starts to remember what happened after Alpha kidnapped Echo. She remembers…feeling detached, in a nightmare. She can't remember why she told Topher what Alpha told her; even now, it still feels surreal. She remembers losing her temper while tending to Victor's scars; they reminded her of when she was attacked—but now she knows they were fake memories. She realizes she must apologize to Victor, and makes a mental note to do so when she tends to his scars again.

Traveling back into her memories, she sees herself about to ask Topher something about Alpha—or was it Echo? Was she even going to ask him about anything? However, he is busy analyzing wedges, and hides to the left of the doorway to the Imprint room, away from his eyes. Now she can't remember why she did this, but she remembers what she heard.

* * *

"_Uh…get me Whiskey 1.1." Claire had been listening in for only two minutes, enough to know that Topher was talking to someone, perhaps over his Bluetooth piece. And there it was; that name again. Whiskey. So it was the name of an Active, a former Active perhaps. "Actually, yes. There was one Engagement, he slipped his Handler; it was a double, he was with Whiskey 1.1. Took us a while to get a lock on his location, it wasn't a place we'd been before; it was a bit off-parameter." There was a rustling of a paper being unfolded. "Here it is: San Pedro, Industrial Road 7-18." The room was silent, but Claire stayed hidden. She heard a rustling of paper once again, and what sounded like a wedge being put into the Imprint chair. A ping. "Whiskey. He's using an old Whiskey Imprint." Now she knew Whiskey was important, and made a mental note to search up that name later._

* * *

It is what brought her to his computer. She knew that all of the Actives, past and present, were on file there. It was almost too easy to hack into his computer, and it was a matter of going to the document search and typing in the name Whiskey. She got back a page, and her eyes were immediately drawn to a picture of a young woman. It's herself, without scars, and with her hair tied back. She…was—correction, is—an Active. Reading documents in a few folders, she found out she was nothing more than an Imprint replacing the original Dr. Saunders. Her contract wasn't finished, and they couldn't use her for Engagements now that she was scarred, so they just used her to replace the original Dr. Saunders, so she learned from the first document she opened. She found another document, this one stating the aspects of the Imprint. Two parameters stood out to her the most: "Advanced computer skills" and "Hatred toward Topher Brink". These two were bolded in red, and the rest were bolded in black.

It brings her to where she is now, sitting in Topher's chair, in front of his computer, looking at a list of parameters of her Imprint. She closes it, and leaves the window with her picture on it open, a part of her wanting Topher to discover that she knew she was nothing more than an Imprint, an amalgam of memories and skills. Hatred boils inside her again as she walks down the small flight of steps and stands in front of the large windows overlooking the rest of the complex, hatred against Topher for not telling her. But she realizes that he wouldn't have been able to tell her, since Adelle wouldn't want an Active aware of their Imprint (_especially for an investment like me, _she bitterly thinks to herself), even if he wanted to. Did he even want to? It doesn't matter, because after she talks with Topher, she's going to leave and pretend she never found out, she's going to embrace her role as Dr. Claire Saunders, otherwise Adelle would get suspicious, and God knows what will happen then.

She looks out over the complex, knowing that she used to be one of them, carefree, aimless, always wanting to be her best. Try as she might, she can't remember her past, what she was like as an Active, how she got her scars (though for some reason, she's positive Alpha gave them to her), what she was like before coming to the Dollhouse. She thinks about going back to his computer and opening those files on her past, but decides against it. She knows where her place is. She knows who she is. And it is not what those files would state.

The files, she thinks. Specifically, the file containing her parameters. Why would he program her with advanced computer skills? Did he WANT her to find out about who she was—without him telling her? Would it be too painful for him to tell her? He never struck her as the type of guy to have such feelings, but then again, that was probably programmed into her too. And why would he program her to hate him? Was he…guilty? Guilty of what? Another thought is about to cross her mind, but she notices Topher's reflection in the window, and the thought dissipates.

"Doctor Saunders?" He still doesn't know. She decides to coldly tell him that she knows she's an Imprint in an Active.

"I think you gave me more computer skills than would be required by a medical doctor. It was very easy for me to hack your system." She looks in the window, and she sees him glance at his computer, and then look away, eyes closed. A smirk of triumph would be called for, but not this time. She sees shame (_or is it guilt?_) on his face, and she decides to turn around and lock eyes with him, but looks off to the side, thinking of something more to add on. "I'm curious." She makes her way to the small flight of stairs so she can get a good look at Topher's face, what he might betray.

"About?" She sees he's nervous, unsure of her cryptic sentence. It's time she did the talking. She starts walking up the stairs.

"Well, I guess I can understand why they wouldn't want to waste an investment." A sardonic laugh almost makes itself known in her voice, but she holds most of it back. "And I suppose why hire a new physician when you can just…Imprint the broken Doll." She's across from him now, a good distance away from him, enough to make him nervous, because he's glancing down to the floor. "But why did you decide it was so important for me to hate you?" He looks up, confusion on his face. Now she's confused. Did he think she wouldn't notice that note? It was in bolded red letters! "I think that's strange." And she decides to leave him for the night; it's going to be a lot for him to take in.

"You didn't open it." His voice is slightly strained, and it causes her to stop, but not turn around. Was he pleading for her to stay? The great Topher Brink, pleading with his own creation. The very thought, strangely, irked her, and it seeped into her answer.

"No."

"Aren't you curious to find out who you really are?" Now she feels she has to look at his face one last time, to see his expression. She turns to look at him, keeping a cold gaze.

"I know who I am." Her legs start to take her out of his office, and her head turns, looking forward, not back.

* * *

When Claire arrives in her office, she starts looking through the cabinets and shelves. Everything that seemingly belonged to her is fake. The company's items of décor are real, but maybe to the original Dr. Saunders. Then she finds it, a medium sized cylindrical plastic container chock full of lollipops, stuffed in the back of one of the cabinets. A memory of her finding that container on the examination table, being puzzled by it, and taking it and placing it in the back of that cabinet pops into her mind, but she brushes it off, knowing it is a planted memory. However, a fuzzy image forms in her mind of an old man holding out the container, and she pushes it out of her mind before it can become clear. She wasn't supposed to see that, and blocks all memory of it ever popping into her head, but not before taking out the container and placing it among her small table of medical tools that would be necessary when Victor comes. Then she decides, a small apology would be appropriate for the way she acted toward Victor hours before, and makes a mental note to give him a lollipop after his now daily session with her (for treatment of his forming scars) is over.

"Dr. Saunders." She immediately turns around to see one of the attendants dressed in white and gray standing next to Victor, with his cuts sewn together.

"Yes. Victor, have a seat." She gently smiles, the attendant leaves, and Victor hops up on the examination table, bracing himself for the pain that comes with healing deep cuts.

* * *

"Yup. Send her in." Adelle DeWitt replies crisply over the desk phone, and hangs up. Paul Ballard turns around in his leather seat, and hears Adelle welcome the Deactivated November. November is wearing a dark brown shirt dress and carrying a black leather handbag. Her hair is strangely reminiscent of a style long forgotten by women, unimportant to Paul. This is who Mellie really is, before she became November. He turns his head to Adelle. She's holding a manila folder in her hands. "I just have a few things for you to sign, and then our business will be completed." Adelle handles it as though it was a business transaction, but with a sunny cheer, not as though she was freeing a person from who knows how many years of slavery.

"Thank you." November doesn't smile, but her cheery voice is still there. It reminds him of his neighbor Mellie, of the times they had together; before he found out she was a Sleeper, as that message from her said. It was mainly why he had agreed to sign on with the Dollhouse. Besides the fact that he wouldn't be respected by his colleagues at the FBI ever again, he still needed to take down the Dollhouse. He knows there's a spy within, and contact will be easier. His eyes are trained on November, as she's signing the papers Adelle gave her. "Hello." She looks up at him before she starts signing. It was almost with the same tone she had said "hello" when she was still a Doll. Paul's disgust is pushed aside momentarily.

"Hello." She starts signing the papers to have her released from the Dollhouse, and he almost wishes that Mellie was still in there, wanting him. But he can't have her, and he knows it. It's the one thing restraining him from jumping her right now.

She finishes signing the papers, and Adelle hands her a white envelope, no doubt with a check enclosed within. The two stand up. "It was so easy. I feel like I just got here." It's her way of saying good-bye…to Adelle, but in a way, to him too.

"Of course." Adelle smiles and the two hug. After this embrace, November bids farewell.

"Okay. Thanks again. Bye." Paul thinks for a minute. The Dollhouse takes away identities, tears apart families, causes harm to the client's enemies. And remembers that November, even Mellie, is not her real name. He stands up and stops her in the most cordial way he knows how.

"Excuse me." She turns around. "I don't think I got your name." She looks at him, a stranger, because that's who he is to her, a stranger.

"Madeline. Madeline Costley." She holds out a hand, and the two shake hands. Not kiss, not hug, but shake hands.

"Madeline. That's a lovely name." He's being gentle with her, but he agreed to this. He let her go because he couldn't bear to see the body of his former love being sent out on Engagements to fulfill the sexual needs of other clients. It disgusts him. They let go of each other's hands, and she scans him with her eyes, as though she remembers him, but she really doesn't.

"And you are?" He pauses. It's a legitimate answer, but if she knows his name, and she has a way to contact him, maybe…? No, he has to let her go, release her completely from the Dollhouse. That includes severing any bond, any tie they may have to one another.

"I'm nobody." She takes the answer, a little startled, but takes the answer. And with that, she walks out of the double doors, out of the Dollhouse, but mostly out of his life. He heaves a deep sigh. With that, she is gone, and his bondage to the Dollhouse begins.

* * *

"Okay, you can go now." Claire is finished with Victor for the night, and she turns back to tidy up the small table.

"Thank you." He hops down to the floor and starts walking way. She then remembers the lollipops, and remembers that she has to give him one. She has almost forgotten her mental note, a first for her.

"Victor?" He turns around, an almost questioning look in his eyes. She picks up the container and holds it out to him.

He starts walking to her, a small delighted look on his face, and takes a dark red lollipop out of the container. He turns back, she hears the ripping of the plastic wrapper, and he keeps walking away. She holds the container close to her, a small smile forming, but it disappears as he disappears from sight, leaving her to contemplate the day's events, and where they took her—and left her. _I know who I am._ And she turns back to finish tidying up the small table.

* * *

**A/N: **'Tis over. All over. Again, the "Moonlight Sonata" Movements one and three would've been appropriate, but whatever. There isn't much left to say, except review with constructive criticism. Well, I bid you _adieu _until next time, when we'll (hopefully) have a second season. This is noobloser/Lane/Angel360-Devil0 signing off!

**As a side note to those who don't have a FF account: I have anonymous reviews enabled on all of my fanfics, so you can still review if you want! I give the voice to all of the people.**


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